


Revenge Is The Sweetest Flavor

by OrangeDeminsionJumper



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: Almost Cannon, Death And Such, F/M, Graphic Torture, Kinda, M/M, Peoples, Plot Derived From Batman Under The Redhood, Violence, has potential, language I guess, not a lot really, uhhh, why
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-23
Updated: 2016-10-06
Packaged: 2018-07-16 18:59:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7280761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrangeDeminsionJumper/pseuds/OrangeDeminsionJumper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Second Giant War, the demigods should be rejoicing. Instead, most mourn for the death of three of their leaders: Hazel Levesque, Frank Zhang, and AnnabethNico Chase. Now, two years later, another death rocks the Camps to their cores. The death of another leader. Or, is it. Because Nico has always doubted his boyfriend died, but when a strange man in green terrorizes New York, he can't really dwell on that can he.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Crime Commited

**Author's Note:**

> I just can't control myself, can I? This is the second story MADE today. But, who cares. All but one character belongs to Mr. Riordan. Plot is mine, mostly. Thank you, and have a merry day.

Chapter 1  
A Crime Commited

He was running.

The trees blurred past him as he sprinted as fast as he could. His black skinny jeans were ripped and covered in blood; whose it was could not be seen.

His jet black hair was stuck to his face with sweat and his equally black eyes were dilated and wide, searching. His breath came out in exhausted huffs of air.

The sword he usually had on him at all times was missing. His pale skin glistened in the moonlight, the overly large black shirt ripped at the sleeve.

Nico Di Angelo was obviously in a rush, finally breaking through the forest and into the open clearing that was Camp Half-Blood. The Son of Hades shoved past anyone who got in his way, most stopping to stare as ran by and others following slowly behind to see exactly why he was going in such a hurry.

But Nico didn't care, because he had to get all the way across camp to get to the cabin area.

Specifically, Cabin Three.

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A thud.

Laughter.

A louder thud.

Laughter.

The cycle went on as it had for nearly three hours.

The thud, made from the cold steel of a a baseball bat hitting the stomach of a man. The laughter, made from the most evil of minds in the past century.

"So, little hero. Which do like better? Because I can't decide." An evil and cruel voice filled the large cabin.

The voice came from a man, with hair dark as night that was cut short in a military fashion, and onyx eyes that could only be matched with the cold look of a Son of Hades.

"A..." He lifted his arm, bringing the bat down with an overhand swing. It made contact with another man on the ground, one that wore a tattered orange shirt and ripped jeans. His messy black hair stuck out in odd angles and his unique sea green eyes were dull and lifeless.

"Or B?" The hand came in for a backhand swing, striking the bruised man across the face.

"Front hand..." A repeat of the first. "Or backhand?" The second redone.

The Son of Poseidon groaned in pain, whispering softly. "What was that? I think you have a collapsed lung, so you might have to speak louder." The Son of Hades said with a wicked smirk.

He bent in a mock attempt to try and listen better, and got blood spit in his face as reward.

The onyx eyed man sneered. "Now that was just rude. Maybe I should teach you a lesson." He seemed to genuinely think about. "Nah, I'll just keep beating you with this baseball bat." He said, an insane grin to match the spark in his eyes.

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Nico was almost there.

He could see the cabins. 'Hang on Percy.' He thought.

He began to pray to every god that his best friend for two years, not to mention boyfriend for one of those, would be saved.

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The Son of Hades stood at the backdoor, a disappointed grown etched onto his face.

"Alright kiddo, I have to go. Don't stay up to late and remember to do your homework." He said with glee. He took a step out, only to look back with a smile that sent shivers down Percy's back.

"Oh, and tell Annabeth that I said hello." He said, before laughing and closing the door.

Percy rose to his feet with great difficulty, and tried to walk but ended up back on the ground. He cried out in pain, his ribs hurting.

The demigod crawled over to a wall and leaned against it. That's when he heard it. The beeping.

Percy turned his head and saw it; thirty pounds of military grade C4 explosives set to a timer. And that timer had only four numbers on it.

00:07.

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Nico could see the green wood, could smell the sea, could taste the salty air.

But he could here the beeping. He sprinted with all his might, but when he reached the door, it exploded outward. The door threw Nico across the cabin area as a plume of fire and rubble flew into the night sky.

The explosion got the attention of the campers, who ran to the scene. But what they saw was worse than anything they expected. Nico walked out of the debris, holding the lifeless body of Percy Jackson in his hands.

Each camper bowed their head in respect. Because on this day, a hero had died. But Nico knew better. He knew that one day, Percy would come back.

He would defy the fates and find a way back to the living. Because nothing is sweeter than the taste of revenge.

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Time Skip  
Ten Years

Inside of a warehouse just off the coast of Long Island, a meeting was taking place.

Around a circular table, ten men and two women sat. Each carried a briefcase, and each carried a gun. Of course, they had their bodyguards to back them up if things got hairy. Out of all twelve, only three stuck out as abnormal.

One, a giant man with a shaved head and rippling muscles, had a tattoo on his left bicep; it was a scythe. The giant man's eyes were solid gold, but to some sitting at the table they looked like ordinary hazel eyes. His guards were not humans, but Cyclopes, each holding a Celestial Bronze studded club.

The second was a woman, with scaly green skin and a forked tongue. Her poisonous green eyes shifted around the room and her guards, women with two trunks for legs and scaly skin like her, carried spears and bows.

The last man that stood out amongst these people was also the man who had no guards with him, and instead of a briefcase he carried a dark grey duffle bag. He wore an inky black cloak, with a hood over his head, and a black mask over his mouth. His eyes were a shiny grey, like steel, and his pale skin glistened in the dim light.

The three all stared at each other, while the mortals talked to each other in hushed whispers. "That's enough." The giant man announced. The talking ceased. "I think it's time our host made himself known." He stared pointedly at the cloaked man. All was quiet.

And then: "Thank you for the introduction..." The voice was twisted and deep, like tape recording playing backwards. "Kronos." As soon as the name was said, two guns shot out of the sleeves of the cloaked mans shirt.

He shot the nine mortals, and then their guards. All that was left was the three entities of a different pantheon. "How do you see me?" Kronos asked. The man stood, almost as tall as the giant 6'7 man that became the host of the Titan of Time.

"Don't worry. I come with glad tidings." The man's distorted voice sent chills down the Cyclopes' backs.

Quicker than the naked eye could see, all guards had an arrow in their throat and chocked on their blood before turning into golden dust.

The cloaked man stood with a mysterious contraption in his hand. It was a revolver, but instead of a chamber that would hold six bullets, it had a chamber that held twenty four small arrows, with a thin barrel for better accuracy.

"Now, let's get down to business." The man said, taking off his cloak. Underneath he wore black dress pants and a long sleeve grey button up shirt. He rolled up the sleeves and revealed two extending mechanisms that each held extra ammo, a flash bang, and a pIstol, a MP443 GL to be exact. His hair, a jet black tumble of locks, fell to his shoulder and surrounded his face in an almost ethereal way.

"So..." He began, the mask still covering his mouth. "Let's talk payment." Kronos and the snake woman stared. "For what?" She asked. "I'm glad you asked Echidna." He said.

The warehouse walls exploded open, and tens of men in all black gear ran in with automatic crossbows full of Celestial Bronze tipped arrows. The man, if you could see his mouth, had a smile. "I mean payment for your protection."


	2. A Murder Admitted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello ladies, gentlemen, and others. I am back from the dead and am starting to begin again on these stories. Here is chapter two, and have a merry tomorrow.

Chapter 2  
A Murder Admitted

It was a slow day at the police department. 

Not many crimes had sprung up in about four weeks. The Chief of Police, Solomon McFreely, had most officers inside, seeing as their was nothing else better to do.

Nico Di Angelo, the lieutenant of the Manhattan Police Department, sat at his desk with barely concealed boredom. He knew he could just leave; it's not like he's actually on duty at the moment.

He could go see if Will, his best friend, had anything he could do around the hospital of which he was employed. But, then again, Nico barely had time for a mortal life at the moment.

Ever since the crime stopped, the Mythological World had begun to get less dangerous. Monsters were no longer killing demigods, just mortals, and no one has heard from Hades in three weeks. It could have been a coincidence, if not for the fact that just over a two months ago the eleven biggest crime bosses in New York held a meeting, and only three returned.

Nico wasn't stupid.

He knew something was amiss. The fact of the matter was, after almost two months of research had lead to nothing. Nico sighed, hands gripping a picture tightly. And then, their was the root of all Nico's problems.

Seemingly out of the blue, seventy-six demigods disappeared from Camp Half-Blood and sixty-three from Camp Jupiter. All traces led to a building in lower Manhattan that had a symbol on the side: a poisonous green arrow surrounded by an Omega. The thing was, when Nico went to explore he found nothing but empty crates and dust bunnies. No signs of life, no signs of anything but decaying wood. Nico left with no news for Chiron or Lupa, resulting in a wounded ego and a hurt pride.

The picture in Nico's olive toned hands was that of a man with long black hair falling to his shoulders and a black trench coat. The picture was taken from a security camera on the streets, just barely catching the figure as he sprinted faster than the naked eye past the buildings. This was the only lead Nico had had in over a week, and he wasn't going to pass it up for anything.

"Lieutenant Di Angelo? A call for you." A young woman's voice called from outside Nico's office. "Thanks Sharon!" He shouted back, answering his phone. "Manhattan Police Department, Di Angelo speaking." He spoke monotonously. "Hello, Nico." A distorted voice played back.

The demigod sat back in his chair, confused. "Who is this?" A chuckle. "That's for later. For now, I'm here to say there's been a murder." The voice was still distorted. Nico sat at full alert. "What?!? Alright, where are you, what did you see?" Another chuckle.

"Well, I walked into this warehouse and killed about thirty-six people. Then, I killed four monsters, two Cyclopes and two dracnae. After that, I kinda just walked out into the ever expanding darkness." Nico almost dropped the phone.

Not only had this man admitted to committing mass homicide, but he had also said he killed monsters. He was part of Nico's secret world. "Who are you?" Nico asked, terror creeping into his veins. The man hung up with nothing but a single word. "Rebirth."

The dial tone rang out like a siren in the small office. Then the phone fell. And then the door slammed open as the slow day turned into one of great importance.

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In a small house on the outer ring of Manhattan, a man snapped a flip-phone closed with glee dancing in his eyes.

He wore a long, grey trench coat and a black vest. His long black hair was in a short ponytail, and his signature black mask was replaced by a much different one. Instead of black, the mask was pure white with etchings of a skull's lower half.

The man turned around and strutted to a large cylinder at the houses center. It was about three feet in diameter and the same in height. Glass wrapped around its exterior, showing off a blue liquid that flowed green. The man leaned down and grabbed a hand hold on the top of the cylinder.

"A new age is nigh." His voice wasn't distorted, but deep and rich. He turned the hold and pushed down, causing the liquid to super heat and create a gas, one that flew up into the atmosphere. The man quickly pulled out a six inch piece of cylindrical wood.

The wood was dark and had carvings of skulls and ghosts, as well as a purple gem at the base. "Incantation: Boundary of Troy!" He shouted. The wand sparked, and then shot a green beam into the sky.

A large bubble surrounded the city of Manhattan, enclosing the blue gas inside the city as it dissipated into the sky. "A new age indeed. Now, time for phase two." The man walked over to a door on the opposite wall. He opened it, and pulled out another person.

"It's time to get up Sea Prince. You've been asleep for far too long." The mans voice was once again distorted. Broken sea green eyes met the shattered steel eyes of the masked man.

Percy Jackson stared at the man, and didn't know that the next thirty-six hours of his life were about to get a lot worse.

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A temple upon a hill.

Grey walls and pillars.

A bonfire was alive and kicking at the center of this temple. Two figures talked, argued really. "How could you have done this?!? He was a boy!" The first, a small girl of eight years with red hair and eyes glared at a man in a expensive suit.

"I never thought it would turn into this. I never meant for any of this. I wanted to give back what I had stolen." His voice was smooth and calming, like a breath of life.

"It matters not. What's done is done. You shouldn't have played God." The man smirked, his scars stretching. "Well, I am a Titan." The both of them stared into the fire, each thinking of the events taking place in Manhattan.

"You know he will come for you. Don't you?" The girl asked. "Of course. I've been waiting four years." The man replied.

Little did they know, by this time tomorrow the individual they were talking about would be on there way to find answers.


End file.
